Chapter 9

There was time before dinner for him to go through the remaining ledgers that he had set aside before Niamh's interruption earlier that morning.

He was nearly done examining the first document when a familiar, rhythmic rapping on the door made him grin before calling in the visitor.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Cameron."

"Me Laird," the stout housekeeper said as she opened the heavy door and entered the study.

"What can I help ye with? Is dinner ready?"

"Just about, Me Laird, but nay. Laird Irvine asked me to show him up at yer behest," she stated, but she was actually checking the validity of Felix Shepherd's statement.

Cheeky dobber…

"That'll be fine, Mrs. Cameron. Let him through," Arran instructed.

Mrs. Cameron scoffed, understanding that Laird Irvine had fibbed.

Felix slid past the housekeeper with a wide smile on his face. "Arran, I came up to finalize the treaty with ye before dinner."

"Felix, thank ye for the reminder. I'm just finishing it now. Please take a seat," Arran said and gestured to the armchair his sister had occupied that morning.

The ledger he was reviewing earlier that morning contained Clan Irvine's financials, and he knew well what type of trade agreement would work with them. Their trade treaty was metalwork and weaponry from his clan in exchange for wool and textiles.

Unfortunately, Arran struggled to focus on the page he was looking at because he was thinking about Scarlett pressed up against him.

"Right, Arran?" Felix asked, pulling him back to their meeting.

"Aye," Arran answered quickly.

"So, ye think Lily might want to marry, after all?"

Felix couldn't get over the fact that his sister was a spinster by her own choice, and he thought that he knew what she wanted. This wasn't the first time he had brought up Lily marrying Arran, nor would it be the last.

"I think she is the one to tell ye if she wants to marry or nae."

"Arran, I dinnae think she kens well what she wants. As the Laird of Clan Irvine, I should help her, right?"

"Ye ken?"

"Aye."

"Nay, Felix." Arran chuckled and shook his head. "She will tell ye if she finds someone she wants to marry. Dinnae fash yerself."

"Ye sure?"

He signed the ledger swiftly and then stood up as he heard the gong for dinner. "Aye, Felix, I'm sure. Now, let's sup."

The two walked into the dining hall and sat at the head table. Arran and Niamh sat across from each other, in the middle of the table. Lily sat next to Niamh, and Felix sat on his sister's other side. On Arran's right was his honored guest, the minstrel, and Laird Donaldson sat on his left. Though it was proper to have his friend next to him, Arran couldn't help but think that Scarlett would be seated next to him moving forward, which made him tug at the collar of his jacket.

"So, Graham, how are ye? Did ye get a good look at the estate after yer performance?" Arran asked.

"Aye, Arran. A lovely home ye have built here. I didnae believe ye, I'll admit. Yer sister has been a perfect hostess. I'll have to thank her later," the minstrel said, and there was no lilt or hint in his voice of any other interest in pursuing Niamh.

Graham was truly a gentleman, even though he wasn't born into their world.

"Ye shall have the second dance, as customary. Niamh and I will open the floor first, and then, as the honorary guest, ye will have a dance. Ye can thank her then, Graham." Arran clapped his friend on the shoulder and then turned to start eating.

Looking around the dining hall, it was not lost on him that Scarlett had not come down yet. The thought of her getting lost in the castle again made his lips twitch, and then the thought of her skipping the meal made him angry.

If she doesnae enter the dining hall by the time I finish this chalice, I'll go retrieve her meself and start the ruse right here and now, her faither's blessing be damned.

His thought was interrupted by the healer, who leaned in over his shoulder to let him know that the young Buchan was recovering quickly.

"Recovering? Is he awake?" Arran asked in a stern, hushed voice so as to not raise the rest of the party's suspicions.

"Nae yet, Me Laird."

"Aye, send for me immediately when he stirs. I'll be the first to speak with him," he ordered, suddenly distracted by clan banner shifting along the wall.

Aye, lost again, lass?

He chuckled to himself and ended the conversation with his healer, keeping his eyes on Scarlett as she moved quickly to her table. She somehow looked even more stunning than she did in the blue dress this afternoon. The seamlines of her blue-grey dress ran down the front and back of her dress and curved in at her waist and out at her hips. Her white bodice barely covered her full breasts, and the sash flowed in the air whimsically above the train of her skirt.

Arran watched as she slid into the empty chair across from her mother and joined the feast. He was able to read her mother's lips as she said, "Scarlett, ye look lovely, lass. Just lovely."

Aye, Sienna, yer daughter is bonny.

Then an untapped anger welled deep within him as he watched Laird O'Neill lean in and say something that made Scarlett's face fall slightly. She quickly recovered from the insult and plastered a smile on her face. Arran was in awe of her ability to pretend in front of her parents, but it was clear her father would be an issue.

He rested his chin on the heel of his palm as his eyes followed Mack Paton. Laird O'Neill continued to look up at the head table, focusing on Laird Donaldson, and then leaning back into to address his wife and daughter.

It was clear that Laird O'Neill had made up his mind about a marriage between the young Buchan and Scarlett, and Arran was temporarily satisfied knowing that he would blow that plan to pieces. Not that he had anything against Laird O'Neill—nothing, in fact. It was just how he felt as Mack whispered something that made both Sienna and Scarlett's faces contort.

All right, I've had enough of this.

Watching Scarlett suffer her father's wrath from afar instilled in Arran a sense of duty because her father's wrath was something he promised she would never have to endure again. This excruciating dinner was over, and he was now on a mission to declare her his. He waved over the band leader and introduced him to Graham, and the two musicians drifted into the great hall to get the rest of the evening started.

Arran leaned over to Niamh and asked, "Sister, are ye ready to go through?"

"Aye, Braither. I'm ready!"

He stood up and offered her his arm, and the dining hall fell silent. As they walked on ceremony into the great hall, he leaned closer to her and whispered, "I want ye to trust me, alright?"

"I always trust ye, Braither."

"Good."

He spun her around as they stepped onto the dance floor and started the first dance together.